Apocalypse
by Amanda12
Summary: After the Apocalypse, everything changes. *Character Deaths* Completed.
1. 1

She cradled his head in her lap with tears in her eyes. How could it end like this? After all they'd been through? After all the fighting, the tears, the nightmares made real?  
  
He stirred, recalling her wandering mind.  
  
"It's going to be ok, you're going to be fine. It's only a couple of scratches," she lied, as much to herself as to him. He opened his eyes.  
  
"Sorry.I messed.up," he forced out painfully, almost too weak to speak.  
  
She shook her head, "It's my fault. It's always been my fault.all of it." She took a shaky breath. "I just wish you and everyone else hadn't had to . suffer for my mistakes."  
  
"No. It.wasn't your.fault." He paused to take a weak gasp, visibly straining with the effort to keep speaking. She took his hand. "I.wish I.wasn't.leaving you.alone. Keep . keep . surviving."  
  
This time he didn't take a breath. He closed his eyes and slowly his body relaxed. He was dead. She stood up, leaving his body on the ground, surrounded by his blood. She looked at it for a moment, but it wasn't him. Besides, there were no tears left any more, and she knew too well the difference between someone and their dead body.  
  
Xander was gone.  
  
Faith turned on her heel and left. 


	2. 2

An endless succession of 'if onlys' passed through her mind as she sat on his sleeping bag in their latest hideout, holding the small stuffed pig tightly to her chest. It had been packed away with the rest of their stuff ready for a quick getaway if need be, but she'd got it out when she'd arrived back. Faith had made up her mind. She wasn't going to run anymore. She was going to sit and remember all those who she had failed, who had died because of her. She cast her mind back to before the Apocalypse..  
  
Before the horror.  
  
Everyone had been happy. Indeed, everyone had still been alive then. Maybe they hadn't known it, but all the usual petty worries; schoolwork, love lives . were part of this happiness. When the biggest problem in your life is a relationship, you're blessed with happiness.  
  
And then she'd ruined it for the whole world.  
  
She had turned the events of that day over in her mind time and time again. If only she'd killed that Sister of Jhe, if only she'd concentrated fully on the fight, like Buffy always had. If only she hadn't allowed herself to be distracted by.violence for violence's sake. "If only". Story of her life. She laughed bitterly.  
  
The Apocalypse had been completely different to anything that anyone could ever have imagined or predicted.  
  
It was Hell on earth. Literally.  
  
The Hellmouth didn't just open, it shifted, moved and expanded like a living thing. It became the sky. Instead of the familiar innocence of the once blue expanse, a nightmare montage of swirling death and destruction from the Hell dimensions now stood in its place.  
  
And through it poured the demons.  
  
The flying ones had come first. Lethal. Their gracefulness belying their true natures. These were followed closely by the many others. The humans were utterly unprepared for the onslaught and millions of innocents were killed within the first few hours. Faith remembered watching them running mindlessly around in the streets in their absolute blind terror, only to picked off easily by the waiting demons. After the immediate widespread panic, and as the reality had begun to sink in, the few remaining people with any sense had gone into hiding.  
  
Buffy had died within an hour of Armageddon, unable to stand by and let the innocent suffer; she'd tried to save everyone. It had been her downfall. As she had helplessly watched her secret hero fight her last battle, Faith had silently promised her that she'd keep everyone Buffy had cared about safe, without wasting her life on strangers. Buffy's death had demoralised the group and it was only by sheer force of will power that she'd got them all into hiding.  
  
After somehow surviving the immediate mass annihilation that had followed, she managed to keep them hidden for a day or so inside the hidden basement complex of a semi-ruined warehouse she had found, what seemed like years ago, when patrolling one night. Now, it seemed like their group was huge compared to the numbers left, but she'd been tortured by the pitiful number of people she'd managed to save. Giles, Willow, Xander, Oz, Cordelia, Jonathon and a small boy that Buffy had managed to save before dying. He said his name was Taylor but not much else, huddling in the corner with Willow trying to comfort him, in vain, for the destruction of his world. 


	3. 3

The meagre supplies that the group had scratched together were gone by the end of the second day in hiding and Faith knew she would have to be the one to risk leaving their hideaway to find some. Everyone else was far too demoralised. She left the others for a few hours after sunset, promising a swift return. She was glad for the excuse, after days of sitting in the squalid semi darkness with the others, even this was preferable. She didn't know how much longer she could have lasted, holed up with those broken people and their glassy-eyed stares.  
  
She randomly wandered the desolate streets, which were eerie, filled with ghosts of the past. Broken glass skittered away from under her feet, and the air was heavy with dust. Faith knew in her heart that this was it. This was all that would, and could continue to be, this vast, barren, almost supernatural landscape and yet . she couldn't shake off the feeling that she might blink, and suddenly find herself back outside the coffee shop on a warm summer afternoon, surrounded by clusters of laughing students.  
  
Water was easy to find, all she had to do was follow the sound of gushing water from the burst pipes which occasionally poked out of the rubble, but nearly all the food was gone, and after some intense searching, the meagre remains that she did uncover had gone mouldy a long time ago. How could she forget the wild scenes of looting and fighting that had ensued in the midst of all the terror?  
  
She listlessly traipsed through the rubble filled streets that reminded her of old photos of bombed cities in Germany during the war, or a book she had once read long ago about the hypothetical future after nuclear fallout. Now she could see the true devastation, it was as if all of her little remaining hope had fled. She soon realised that it was the suffocating silence that disturbed her the most. None of the familiar night time sounds that had once accompanied her upon her patrols. In the still air, it seemed nothing was alive anywhere in Sunnydale. She could be the only person left alive in the world. Faith quickly suppressed a bizarre desire to let go and scream into the darkness, anything. Just to prove that she herself existed. Maybe if she screamed loud enough she might even wake up from this nightmare? But she knew that the moment she opened her mouth it would be her death sentence. Although she couldn't see the demons, and she assumed that most of them had left for the larger cities with more prey, she could still sense their proximity. She didn't think she had the energy left to fight. She felt utterly drained, physically and emotionally, her senses numbed by fatigue and despair.  
  
There were no corpses, but plenty of strewn broken bones lay in her path, which she awkwardly picked her way round. She unconsciously made her way to Revello Drive, hoping that Mrs Summers might still be alive somewhere. Maybe, by some miracle, she had survived, and holed herself up in the cellar where she would be waiting right there for Faith to come and rescue her! Faith broke into a run. God she needed this, please, please let her be alive. If she were alive, it would somehow be better, things would be all right. The hope in her chest was painful. She turned the corner into what had once been Buffy's street.  
  
All that was left of the Summer's house was scattered belongings and piles of debris. It looked like the demons had had some party going on. The steps down to the cellar were in plain view as Faith slowed down into a trot, and the realisation hit her. Buffy's mom was dead. Or had run off. Just like everybody else. Who was she trying to kid?  
  
There was an awful noise, echoes ricocheting off the rubble, and in shock Faith suddenly realised it was her. She sobbed again. Put her hand over her mouth to stifle the terrible noises. No! She clumsily reached out a hand to steady herself on the remains of a wall. Don't throw up. Just don't throw up. Fighting the burning sensation on the back of her eyes she forced herself to calm down. Squeezed her eyes shut and took deep gasping breaths of the cool night air. She could taste the desolation from the rubble.  
  
She couldn't afford this. Not now! Fear seized her and she quickly crouched down and listened.  
  
Again, the enveloping silence.  
  
How long she sat there she did not know. But she eventually came to her senses. What was she doing? The others were depending on her to get back!  
  
She listlessly picked through the rubbish, not actually expecting to find anything. Then she saw something that made her freeze. Mr Gordo. Blankly she bent over and picked him up, examined him slowly. Clutching him tightly, she straightened and looked around for a second. There was nothing else here. She turned away.  
  
A movement caught the corner of her eye and Faith froze, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. Then when she saw what it was, she relaxed. A thin black cat had emerged from what was once the Summer's next-door neighbour's house, and was neatly making its way through the rubble. When it saw her, it also stopped in its tracks and the two scavengers regarded each other cautiously for a moment. Faith, still needing to take food back for the others, saw the possibilities of the encounter at once. She shot it deftly with the crossbow she'd bought for protection and, realising that if she took it back like that the others might object to eating it, she took out her knife and skinned it. The cat had a tiny red collar with a tag that said Lucy, she noticed. A vivid reminder of the kind of world she had left behind. The house opposite had a vegetable patch, she remembered - after landing in it one night whilst making her way to Buffy's. It had ruined her shoes, mud was so damned difficult to get out of suede . . . She found the remnants of it underneath the remains of the back wall of the house, and dug up as much as possible, filling her pockets with overripe tomatoes. That should do for tonight's meal anyway; Faith straightened, brushed the dirt of her knees, picked up the dead cat and turned to leave.  
  
"Faith, wait!"  
  
She jumped, spun round in surprise, dropping everything and falling into a defensive stance.  
  
It was Angel. The shock of seeing him running towards her. . . she faltered. Then quickly held up her crossbow, aiming it at his heart.  
  
He slowed to a stop, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.  
  
"Faith . . ." he said falteringly, "I, I thought you were dead! .I thought you were all dead."  
  
"Well," said Faith, not relaxing her guard, "We're not." She didn't intend to trust him. Angelus could have come back to enjoy the destruction and mayhem of post-apocalypse life, and who was she to tell the difference - he looked concerned enough, but who could tell?  
  
Angel still looked shocked.  
  
"You're all still alive?" He took a tiny step forward, and Faith readjusted her grip on the crossbow. He got the message. "Where have you been hiding? I looked everywhere but . . . but all I found were . . ." He paused shakily, "corpses."  
  
Faith felt her resolve weaken. Oh god. Of course, how was he to know about...Oh no. She really didn't want to be the one to tell him this. She steeled herself. Avoiding his eyes she said quietly,  
  
"We're.not all still alive." She looked up at him for a moment, then continued falteringly, "Buffy."  
  
That was as far as she got. Angel went even paler that before (no mean feat) and visibly shrank. He gave her a pain filled look.  
  
"How.I." he stuttered. Unable to make a coherent thought, he turned and disappeared. Faith watched him go, ignoring the empathic feeling of shared grief, and then turned to go back to the others. 


	4. 4

"So," said Willow eating heartily, a couple of hours later, "What kind of meat is this?"  
  
"Cat," said Faith, absently, concentrating on the food and trying to ignore the memory of Angel's shattered expression. She gradually became aware of a sudden silence and looked up from her plate. Oh crap. They were all staring at her in horror.  
  
Faith opened her mouth hurriedly and started, "Uh . . . um, . . . I mean . . ."  
  
"You, You . . . you didn't, uh . . . kill it . . . did you?" said Willow, trembling slightly and looking rather green.  
  
Faith thought quickly.  
  
"Of course not!" she said faux cheerily. "It was already, uh, dead when I found it, just a stray. No one's pet," she trailed off, trying not to think about the little collar.  
  
There was a slight relaxation but no one continued eating. Faith gave them a big, forced smile. "We have to eat something. things are different now, I . . . I thought its death should benefit someone." The tense atmosphere faded a little.  
  
"Yes," said Giles, "We have to think realistically." He gingerly took a bit and gave the others a weak smile. Slowly the others followed suit, all except Willow, who pushed her meat away, gave it to Taylor and just ate the vegetables.  
  
They'd continued like that for several weeks, living hand to mouth. Faith spent her days trying to find food, going and finding someone's vegetable garden and a stray pet, or half-starved feral animal of some kind. The pets were the easiest to kill, coming trustingly to her, expecting to be fed and unable to cope with the different circumstances since the Apocalypse. She continued to tell the others that she was just finding dead corpses but most of them stopped asking or caring as they became hungrier and more accustomed to their new life. Willow continued to refuse to eat meat, despite the others best arguments. She began to get weaker, even though they gave her more vegetables to make up. Faith never saw Angel again; she assumed he'd dusted himself, or run away from the scene of all his memories of Buffy. She didn't see many other vampires or demons either. They seem to have all decided that no one was left alive in Sunnydale and gone to busier cities. Occasionally one or two would pass through but they rarely noticed her, and when they did, she quickly killed them. She was pretty sure that they were the only people left alive in Sunnydale.  
  
She was wandering the streets near the Bronze, searching for some kind of meat. Animals were getting scarce as she picked them off and they became warier or starved to death. It wouldn't be long before she'd have to mention her vague idea of moving elsewhere to the rest of the group. Somewhere that used to have a bigger population, where other people might still be alive. They couldn't stay cowering in a cellar forever. She didn't look forward to the thought of their reaction to her plan. No one else had yet ventured out of the cellar, hiding there and avoiding thinking about the world outside. She couldn't blame them, most of them were still in shock, but sooner or later they'd have to face reality and find somewhere else to live.  
  
"Faith!" Angel stepped out of the shadows. He looked haggard but seemed to have come to terms with Buffy's death. Faith regarded him suspiciously.  
  
"I.how.where" he began. He stopped and took a deep but completely unneeded breath. "How is everyone else? I.decided that I should help you look after them. It's what.she would have wanted."  
  
Faith gave him a suspicious look, "Are you evil?"  
  
Angel sighed, "Would you believe me if I said I wasn't? You're just going to have to trust me. If I was evil, do you think I'd be hanging around this place, hoping to find you?"  
  
Faith thought for a moment. He was right, but at the same time, Angelus had been obsessed with Buffy and, in the event of her death, it was entirely possible he decided to destroy all those she had held dear. In the end, the increasingly hopeless food situation made her decision for her. "Ok. I'll trust you to help me find food for the others. When I think I can trust you further, I'll take you to where the others are."  
  
He agreed, a brief expression of surprise showing that he hadn't expected her to trust him at all.  
  
After that, whenever she went out for food, Angel met up with her and she soon began to trust him, especially after a few skirmishes with demons, when he saved her life. She didn't mention him to the others, unsure of their reaction to him. They stayed in the cellar, still in shock , moaning to each other about the food and the conditions they were living in. Faith couldn't help feel they were blaming her, although she knew they weren't. They all continued to let her provide food for them all on her own, without offering to help. It wasn't long before she began to prefer Angel's company, even though he was usually silent and brooding.  
  
Willow grew weaker and weaker; lying in the corner, eating little and talking about the past to Taylor, who was crouched beside her. He hadn't said anything for weeks.  
  
Food continued to get scarcer and Faith and Angel went outside the city to the woods to shoot squirrels and hares and anything else they could hit. She became certain that at some stage they would have to move on, but avoided mentioning her plan to the others, not wanting to face their objections or whining. They had all grown a little strange, spending all their time huddled in the cellar, rarely speaking.  
  
One evening, Willow was too weak to manage the thin soup that Oz had made for her and later that night, she slipped into unconsciousness. They all sat round her for the next few days, trying to feed her water but they couldn't stop her dying. Her death was like a slap round the face and it roused everyone to activity. They decided to buried her in the nearest cemetery and, for the first time, everyone left the hideout to attend. As they stood round the grave, saying goodbye, Faith looked round at them all; Giles looking about 20 years older than he should, Taylor was a silent shadow, the others were pale and withdrawn and she knew something would have to be done and that she would have to be the one to do it. That evening, she gathered them into the group that had once been so close and explained her plan.  
  
"I think we need to go somewhere else." Before they could raise their objections, she rushed on, "The food here is pretty much gone. I've wiped out the vegetable patches and the meat is not going to sustain us for much longer. We need to go somewhere else. A big city, where others might have survived, somewhere further from the hellmouth that might have been spared some of the.horror. Unless we go somewhere else, we're all going to end up like Willow."  
  
This statement was greeted by shocked silence. Obviously, no one else had even considered leaving Sunnydale.  
  
Eventually Xander spoke, "You're right. We've all cowered in this hole for long enough. It's time we did more than that; it's time we rebuilt our lives. It's what Buffy would have wanted. Maybe.maybe Willow would still be here if we'd stopped wallowing in misery and made an effort."  
  
Faith was surprised. Xander had been one of the last people she'd expected to support a move.  
  
"I'll help you find food tomorrow," he continued, "We've all been letting you do everything for too long and maybe the two of us will have a better chance of finding enough food."  
  
She gave him a grateful look. At last someone had noticed her efforts! She refrained from mentioning that having Angel help her hunt hadn't made much difference and elaborated on her proposal.  
  
"My plan is to head to LA and see if we can find any life. There could be loads of people left alive. There may even be some kind of Resistance movement we could join, I don't know. If there's nothing there, we should travel east, towards New York, stopping at all the major cities. If we can't find anybody," she paused at the thought that they were the last people alive, "We should go somewhere we can start afresh, like the middle of a forest where we can be hidden and there'd be plenty of food."  
  
Silence followed her statement again. Everyone had been silent for so long, they'd forgotten how to have a discussion and they all had resisted thiking about the rest of the world. Most were nodding at her idea though, until Oz started speaking. Willow's death had hit him hard; he'd spent the last few days sitting by her and holding her hand.  
  
"And you want us to just follow you and wait for you to cause our deaths, like Willow and the rest of society? Well, you can count me out." He got up and strode outside.  
  
Faith sat in shock for a moment; she hadn't expected such a violent reaction against her.  
  
"He's just upset. He'll calm down soon and see you're right," said Xander, reassuringly. Faith gave him a grateful look which turned to horror as a scream came from outside. Everyone ran outside to find Oz in a vampire's arms, being drained. Without thinking, Faith staked the vampire, but it was too late for Oz.  
  
She shut her eyes and clutched Mr Gordo tighter. Buffy wouldn't have let Oz die like that. She'd have protected them all and moved them sooner, made sure they were all fine. She shook her head. There was no point in comparing herself to Buffy. She'd been in charge and now they were all dead. She'd done her best and yet it hadn't been enough. Now the only thing left for her to do was to remember them.  
  
Oz's death persuaded the others that they needed to move soon. When Faith started to plan it, she realised they would need Angel's help. Which would mean telling the others about his part in keeping them all alive, and trusting him enough to reveal their hiding place to him.  
  
They'd taken it better than she'd thought. There was no shouting, screams of hate or tears and no one tried to stake him. They seemed angrier with her for keeping his presence a secret. They seemed genuinely relieved that one more part of their old lives had survived, even if it was in the form of a vampire. Angel also seemed pleased to see everyone, although it had become increasingly difficult to tell one emotion from another with him these days. After they had cleared out the cellar, Faith had got them all ready to leave the town and their memories behind. They decided to walk: a car was too conspicuous and besides, there wasn't a whole lot of petrol around. As they passed the Welcome To Sunnydale sign, there was complete silence. No one commented on its buckled, scorched appearance. 


	5. 5

Thanks for all the reviews! And I should probably say that without the constant support, help and guidance, and complete edit of the first half that my bestest pal in the world, Louise Victoria Margaret Sheldrick, this whole story would be utter drivel. I love ya, hun! (Is that enough sycophantic obsequiousness now?) Chapter 1 was set in the now, the rest is seen from Faith's PoV as she reflects on the past. Sorry if that wasn't clear.  
  
*********  
  
Faith would never forget that first walk. She'd never realised just how far Sunnydale was from LA until she had to walk it. The world seemed to grow as she considered getting around without cars, trains or planes. It was going to take them forever to work their way east. Everyone walked in silence. Willow and Oz's deaths were still fresh on their minds, and most of them hadn't seen the world post-apocalypse. It would be understatement to say the scenery had changed a little. Piles of rubble where buildings used to be, cars overturned, scorch marks and, of course, the skeletons. They had all grown noticeably paler the first time they came upon one of these grim reminders of the horrors they'd lived through. Faith had ceased to notice them in her daily outings, but after that she made a special effort to lead the group away from them. They travelled at night and not just so that Angel could join them. Most of the demons that had arrived after the apocalypse were unaffected by sunlight and at night they had the cover of darkness.  
  
By the time they got to the outskirts of Los Angeles, it was getting dangerously close to dawn and most of them, unfit after their idleness of the last few weeks, were exhausted. LA didn't seem to have been as badly hit as Sunnydale, most of the buildings were still standing and Faith soon found them a place to hide in.  
  
In LA, they'd discovered that there were plenty of humans still alive, hiding in cellars and avoiding death, often extremely narrowly. Sometimes it had seemed like some Hollywood post-apocalyptic blockbuster, with different factions emerging. There was scavenging groups, taking anything and everything they found in case it turned out to be useful, at the bottom of the new social order. They were preyed on by gangs of bandits who stole and murdered in order to survive. Both groups were preyed on by the demons, of whom the vampires were only the tip of the iceberg. They stayed in LA for a couple of weeks, during which they discovered that there was no official, country-wide resistance, only occasional, isolated groups, mostly based on the east coast, which hadn't been as badly hit as the west during the initial period of horror. They slowly began to travel towards New York, stopping at most of the major cities. The further they got from Sunnydale, the more people there were left alive and therefore, the more demons around to terrorise them. They were in several desperate fights for their lives and signs of any other resistance were increasingly scarce. Most people had become shadows, hiding from everything, slowly starving to death.  
  
They were in Las Vegas, fighting against a clan of harpy-like demons who had descended out of nowhere while they were doing their customary search for somewhere to stay, when the next of her friends had died. She'd fired a crossbow bolt at one attacking Xander, thrown a knife at one Cordelia was struggling with and then drawn her sword in order to defend herself from the largest one which was flying straight at her in a dive with talons outstretched, when she heard the scream. She stabbed the harpy and turned to see a limp Jonathon being carried off by one of the others. It gave a scream, and all the others took off and flew away, taking Jonathon's body with them.  
  
Although none of them had been close to him at High School, they had all bonded during the life and death struggle of post-apocalyptic life, and his death affected all of them. They left town as soon as possible, leaving yet another body behind but taking more painful memories with them.  
  
A couple of weeks later, Cordelia became ill and they stopped to look after her. Giles said it was a disease caused by drinking dirty water, but was unable to cure it. She slipped away, coughing and moaning a week or so later. This death of a key, original 'Scooby Member' hit them all hard. They became super-efficient, all training together in hand-to-hand combat, becoming prepared for anything. They continued on their trip across the country, continuing with the original plan although none of them believed there would be anything at the end. They just kept heading towards New York for lack of a better plan and tried not to think about what they'd do once they got there.  
  
Meanwhile, they'd all had to deal with the psychological side effects of the apocalypse and the deaths of so many of their friends. Faith repressed. She didn't want to think about it, so she didn't. Angel became even more brooding and stoical. He remained chillingly calm at all times, even when he was fighting. Xander pulled on all the military knowledge that he could remember from his brief stint as a soldier and used it to his advantage, collecting guns and ammunition whenever and wherever he could. He was tougher, more hardened and his humour took on a bitter edge. After Cordelia's death, Giles became more like Ripper than Giles. The tweed disappeared along with the stuttering and conservative approach, to be replaced with leather, swearing and a tendency to hit the first thing he came across when in a mood. However, he still acted as a father figure towards the others, especially Taylor, who had to grow up extremely quickly. He was 13 when the apocalypse came but after a few weeks fighting for his life on a daily basis, he seemed much older. He had overcome his initial shocked silence and became obsessed with revenge against the supernatural creatures who had destroyed his life. They taught him as much about fighting as soon as possible but the whole group were overprotective him, making him hide or run whenever they were attacked, leaving him wherever they were hiding as often as possible and it became noticeable that he resented it.  
  
They arrived in a small town in the middle of America after travelling on and off for several months. The trouble started when they were attacked by a group of Hronmet Demons. There were about 10 of the small, vicious pack hunters, but by now the group was experienced and the fight was relatively one sided. Taylor, as usual was at the back of the group, being protected by the others but when the fight began he attacked one of the demons with a knife and after a brief skirmish, managed to kill it. Feeling proud of himself - he slayed! He rocked! - he looked up, to find himself the object of a look of horror on Giles's face.  
  
"You fool! You could have been killed! Give me that knife! Where did you get it?"  
  
After a brief pause, during which Taylor stared up at Giles with undisguised shock, the anger kicked in.  
  
"I'm not giving you the knife. It's mine and I killed a demon with it, all on my own. I don't need your protection and I don't need to be treated like a child!"  
  
"If you're going to act like a child, I'll damn well treat you like one! Now give me that knife!"  
  
"No!"  
  
At that Giles started towards Taylor, who backed away.  
  
"I don't need you. It's your fault we're in this mess anyway! I can survive on my own!"  
  
With that, he turned and ran down the road. Faith went to catch him but he crawled through a small hole in a wall that she couldn't fit through and she lost him.  
  
They never saw him again.  
  
It was obvious that Giles blamed himself but that was inevitable now. All of them were carrying around a great deal of guilt by now. Whether it contributed to his own death, no one would ever know. Did it distract him sufficiently so that at that key moment, the vampire fighting him a couple of weeks later knocked him out? Or would it have happened anyway? Would he still have been dragged away and given as a present to Periculus? Periculus, a powerful hell demon, part vampire, part god, had tortured him for weeks until he was sure he knew everything about the occult that Giles did. Then, he'd tortured him some more, just for fun. It was only when Faith, Angel and Xander had attacked his stronghold with some of the weapons let in a nearby, abandoned military base that he killed Giles, leaving his broken body behind as he fled, laughing. They'd never caught up with him. They hadn't really tried, they didn't have the energy to feel deeply enough for revenge or anger. They just continued the seemingly endless and by now, largely pointless, trip east.  
  
The three of them together had better luck together than the group had had previously, smaller numbers keeping them from the notice of most of the bigger demons. Ironically, it was often from humans that they faced the worst danger; roving gangs attacking them for any food they might have with them. Faith could still remember the horror she felt when she'd had to kill a human for the first time.  
  
They'd been attacked by a leather-clad gang on an empty highway, and had immediately begun to fight back, her and Angel taking the brunt of the attack as usual. They tried to injure them as little as possible but it was difficult to hold back when their attackers were so hell-bent on killing them. One of them had gone for Xander, but she hadn't been worried, he could protect himself, until she saw a flash of metal out of the corner of her eye, followed by a cry of pain. Throwing caution to the wind, she'd knocked her assailant out and whirled round to see Xander on one knee, leg drenched in blood before a man holding a sword, preparing for the killing blow. She hadn't even stopped to think, she'd thrown herself at him, grabbing the sword with ease, and stabbing him straight through the heart. He'd crumpled to the ground, quite obviously dead. She'd stood staring at him for a moment in shock. The other thugs had taken her momentary distraction as an opportunity, and one of them had hit her. Her last thought as she blacked out was, 'dear god, what have I done?'  
  
When she came round, she was lying on her side near a fire, trussed up like a turkey. Angel and Xander were nearby, Xander was still unconscious and his leg was covered in blood.  
  
"Are you ok?" Angel asked quietly.  
  
She struggled to sit up before replying. "Yeah, I'm fine." She looked at Xander's pale face. "Is he?"  
  
Angel looked worried, "He's still alive, but I don't know for how much longer. He's lost a lot of blood."  
  
Before she could reply, two gang members came up to them.  
  
"Better take this one first," one of them said, pointing at Xander, "He's not gonna last long anyway."  
  
"Right," said the other one, "Shall I just take the leg for now?"  
  
"Leave him alone!" said Faith, "What are you going to do with us?"  
  
The first guy gave her a little smile, "We're going to eat you. Now keep quiet whilst we amputate your friend's leg."  
  
It was about that point that Faith ceased to care about the life she'd taken. When they cut off Xander's injured leg without anaesthetic, she began to feel glad she'd killed him and by the time the gang were sitting around the fire, eating a stew made from it, she would have quite gladly killed them all. After they'd gone to sleep, Angel had vamped out and somehow escaped the ropes round his wrists. She never did understand how. He freed her, and together they carried Xander away, into the night. She'd wanted to kill them all, but Angel had stopped her. It was more important to get Xander to safety than to become distracted by revenge.  
  
They'd carried Xander to the nearest town and found somewhere to hide. It was a miracle that Xander survived that night but somehow he had, and, thankfully, didn't succumb to infection either then or any of the nights after, slowly rebuilding his strength and learning how to live with only one leg. Faith found a wheelchair in an abandoned hospital and after a few months, they were able to travel again albeit slightly slower than before. 


	6. 6

They finally made it to New York without any more tragedies or major incidents, although none of them could be recognised as their pre- apocalypse selves. Once they'd got there, they didn't know what to do next. They started their usual routine for when they arrived in new towns. Together they found somewhere to stay that didn't seem inhabited, and then thoroughly explored the surrounding area, in case they needed to make a quick getaway at any point.  
  
There was obviously no kind of resistance, the whole of the human civilisation had crumbled within days of the apocalypse and left behind a society that seemed to be from a really bad sci-fi film, the kind where the hero manages to save the human race with a minimum of skill or equipment, aided by a handful of social rejects most of them on the verge of a mental breakdown. Faith was not so naïve as to believe they might be able to do that. She was concentrating on keeping the last two members of the scooby gang alive, determined to keep her silent promise to Buffy. Xander was easy to protect, he stuck close to their new home in an abandoned building but Angel had a tendency to go off on long walks, wandering about the city brooding and coming back hours, occasionally days later. Ironically though, it wasn't during one of these solitary wanders that he died.  
  
They were heading back towards their hideout after a trip to get food for Faith and Xander when Angel sniffed the air and suddenly changed direction.  
  
"I can smell blood," he said, by way of explanation. Xander and Faith followed him down an alley, to find a girl lying in a pool of blood with a sobbing man beside her.  
  
"Please be ok," he was saying, "Come on, wake up."  
  
"Can we help?" said Angel. The man looked up with tears in his eyes. He pulled out a cross and threw it at Angel, who flinched and stepped back. The man took his momentary distraction as an opportunity to pick up a cross bow and shoot Angel straight though the heart with a wooden bolt. He turned to dust immediately. While Xander and Faith were still staring at the place where Angel had stood seconds before, the man pulled out a stake and another cross and stood up.  
  
"Come on then," he said, "But I won't sell my life cheaply."  
  
Faith and Xander exchanged glances, then Faith picked up the cross he'd thrown at Angel. When her skin failed to burn, the man looked surprised. She held it absently for a moment. Then she turned and walked away. Xander followed her. There was nothing to say.  
  
Faith had known then that it would soon be over. One girl and a guy in a wheelchair wouldn't be able to last long in a world that had already claimed the lives of the rest of the illustrious Scooby Gang. They'd started travelling again, unable to stay still and wait for death. They both knew they were just killing time until death found them, but they kept up the pretence, telling each other that they were heading for Washington DC to see if there was any resistance there. They hadn't even made it halfway. They'd been attacked by a roaming pack of hellhounds and before Faith could fight them off, they'd tipped over Xander's chair and pretty much mauled him to death. A brief dialogue before he'd slipped away and now she was alone. She'd failed Buffy, she'd failed herself, she'd failed the world. There was nothing left for her but she was damned if she was going to provide a free meal for a passing demon. The door of the hideout was securely locked and bolted, she'd taken the time to remember everyone she'd failed, whose deaths she'd caused and now it was time. She set Mr Gordo aside, picked up her knife and plunged it into her heart. 


End file.
